


A Celebration to Remember

by deputyrook



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Slow Dancing, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deputyrook/pseuds/deputyrook
Summary: You meet the Count at a party, and you're both captivated by one another. He makes it his mission to see that you have a good time.





	A Celebration to Remember

It’s a party, the biggest Vesuvia has seen in weeks. You had heard it was for the Count’s birthday, but then again, you were fairly certain that there had been a birthday ball for the Count last month, too.

It’s a party, and the dance floor is filled shoulder-to-shoulder with guests laughing and dancing the night away. But here you are, away from it all, leaning against the balcony railing and staring out over the castle grounds with a sigh.

Too many people crowd the hall, and not enough friends. 

Well, maybe that wasn’t true. You were fairly certain Asra and Julian were here somewhere, and you knew Nadia had to be around (though you weren’t sure if you’d crossed from casual acquaintances into friends just yet). 

Still, something about the crowd had left you feeling strangely despondent that evening. There was a loneliness to it, and even as you had exited the main hall to the balcony outside, you could hear the roar of the celebration inside, and it made your heart twinge with something like jealously. You felt apart from the crowd, different- unable to truly join in on the fun.

You rest your chin in your hand, and tell yourself to  _stop sulking._ You have half a mind to turn back in, and give a whole-hearted attempt at fun before a voice rouses you from your thoughts.

“I spend half the evening searching the celebration for you, and you’re not even enjoying it. No wonder it took so long to find you.” A clipped, offended voice says, and you turn around in surprise.

“I guess I’m just not one for-” You start, but on seeing the voice’s owner, your words falter, “uh, crowds.”

Standing in the doorway to the party hall, and indeed, walking toward you, is none other than the Count of Vesuvia himself. Lucio strides forward, shoulders held high, his gait arrogant and self-assured. He’s every bit as flashy- and handsome- as his portraits suggest. 

And he seems beyond pleased at your reaction. He’s grinning with teeth as he walks up to you, and you blink owlishly up at him as he nears.

“Surprised to see me? This  _is_ my party.” He says, arms spread wide, and as he approaches he takes your hand into his own easily. Thankfully for your nerves, he uses the flesh one. “And you  _are_  the little magician I just keep hearing about, aren’t you?”

“If the one you’ve heard of owns a little magic shop just off of main street, then I guess I am,” You answer, relieved to find your words. You watch his face curiously, and he seems to be just as curious as he peers at you, not bothering to mask his interest. His eyes are a brilliant shade of deep, velvet red, and you wonder how many people looked up into them as they died.

You shiver involuntary. “You were looking for me?” You ask, voice just a little too high after a moment of silence of him just _watching_  you. Catching himself, Lucio smiles.

“Yes, I thought it was time we become acquainted.” He says, running his thumb across your knuckles as he looks at your hand. “Magic has always fascinated me, you know. I’ve met Asra, but from the way he goes on about you,  _well,_ ” Lucio chuckles to himself, “I doubt it was his intention to pique my curiosity. But you’re even cuter than I expected, you know.”

 _What is happening._  Your brain whirs. It tries desperately to understand why the Count is showering you in attention, and to think of something clever to say in response.  _Did he just call me cute?_

Your cheeks flare scarlet, and you smile. “An odd place for both of us to start off, knowing so much about one another. I’m surprised you know about me, but I can’t say I’m at a loss. Everyone knows who you are.”

The flattery works, you’re pleased to see. Lucio preens at your word, pride so obvious the word could be written right across his face in paint. “Of course they do,” He answers, “I’m the Count of Vesuvia. You still haven’t told me why you’re out here, on your own, and not out there dancing.”

You shrug. With each passing second, the shock of being- nearly literally, as he stands very close to you- face-to-face with the Count is wearing off, and you’re finding the situation to feel surprisingly comfortable. “Just feeling a little out of place, I suppose.” You answer, and then shyly add, “I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Lucio’s eyes widen, and he raises a perfectly crafted eyebrow. He stares at you for a moment, and you stare back. You’d always thought he was shockingly handsome, though when you’d mentioned as much to Nadia, she’d laughed in your face.

And then, the grin returns to his face, mischievous, and so sure of himself. Before you realize what is happening, his metal gauntlet is wrapping around your waist, and he’s pulled you to his side, leading you forcefully back toward the hall. 

“Nonsense!” He replies, too loudly. You are all too aware of the places where your body presses against his, and of the way that people fall quiet and turn to look at you as you re-enter the hall.

“Wait!” You whisper insistently, “Lucio! I can’t just-” From his place beside you, Lucio’s grin hasn’t faltered- if anything, it’s grown.  _Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing._

Practically dragging you through the ballroom, couples part from your way as though touched by flame. He’s rushing forward, you can tell he’s excited, and you  _know_  he’s killed people for less than getting in his way.

When he’s dragged you to the approximate centre of the ballroom, surrounded by guests, he parts from your side to stand in front of you. You give an exasperated look as he bows dramatically, but can’t help but smile back as he grabs your hand again, and pulls you into the waltz position, flush against him.

“This is ridiculous,” You mutter, as you hear the band quickly change their tune to suit Lucio’s dramatic gesture. He looks down at you readying himself.

“ _I_ make the ridiculous- um,  _diculous_ ,” He replies, and you can’t help but laugh at the way he looks nervously to the side, lips pursing as he realizes he’s said something dumb. On hearing you laugh, he looks back, unsure, before allowing a small, genuine smile to cross his face. 

Lucio is a strong lead in the waltz, and you’re not quite sure he knows what he’s doing. Then again, you don’t know what you’re doing either, and with so many people watching you dance, you’re pretty sure you’d misstep even if you did know how. But Lucio’s lead is so strong it feels as though he’s holding you up at times, metal arm curled around your back, locked into place.

As he turns you again, you feel very silly, but you’re aware that you’re flushed as you try to meet his steps. Really, it was…  _kind_  of him to do this for you. For the first time all night, you’re actually having fun, and that voice in your head that had cruelly whispered  _you don’t belong here_  has completely vanished. For the first time in your life, you feel really special.

The two of you approximate something close to a dance, and the crowd applauds politely as the song ends. You’re well aware it was a mess, but Lucio looks beyond pleased with himself, his chest puffed out as he smiles and waves. 

Cheeks still pink, you’re not sure what to do now that the dance is over, and with so many people watching you start to feel a bit ill. You take a few steps back, intending to duck away, out of the limelight.

“Going so soon?” Lucio asks you. You start to walk back through the crowd and he follows on your heel, catching your arm. “Stay,” He commands, and you’re reminded that this is a man who always gets his way.

“Lucio-” You begin, unsure. “Thank you for the dance, really. But are you sure-”

 _“Yes,”_ He cuts you off impatiently. “I’m sure I want to spend the evening with you. Why wouldn’t I? Do you have to question it? I want to dance with you, I want to spend more time with you, you  _obviously_  want to be with me, too-”

“Do you want to walk around outside?” You ask him, and he stops. “I just need some fresh air, that’s all.” 

Lucio huffs out a soft noise, and you can’t tell if it’s a chuckle, or a sulky sound of annoyance. He clearly enjoys being the centre of attention, but surely he’s noticed you don’t. Still, he nods, and follows as you begin to walk toward the garden, slower this time.

As you walk, you mull over his words.

“Why are you…” You begin, struggling to express the thoughts knocking around your mind, “I mean, I’m just a little surprised you really want to spend the evening with me, I guess.”

Lucio smiles at you again, and it’s the small smile, the private one you saw when you were dancing. It makes your stomach flutter, and you look away. Honestly, you’d heard he was insufferable from your friends, but you couldn’t help but find it both charming and adorable.

“Is it that hard to believe I’m interested in you? I told you that I think you’re attractive. And fascinating. Sometime, I’ll tie you up in my office and pester you with questions about your magic.” Lucio laughs lightly at his own words, and then continues, a more serious look crossing his face. “Besides. You seemed in want of company. And I’ve  _seen_  you stealing looks at me, don’t tell me you aren’t interested, too.”

You had to admit, he had a point. 

“Maybe I am. Just a little,” You say, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his eyes. At your admission, he begins to walk a little straighter, sliding his arm around your waist once again.

By the time you reach the gardens, it’s fallen late into the evening. Though you passed guests on the way, the gardens themselves are mostly deserted, likely in part to the snow that falls in heavy flakes around you. It’s chilly, but the air is crisp and refreshing. Covered in a fluffy blanket of snow, the gardens are beautiful like this, and you sigh contentedly as you walk.

“Beautiful,” You murmur, and beside you, Lucio hums.

“Thank you,” he says, and you’re not sure if he thought you were speaking to him, or if he’s answering on behalf of the gardens. “How about another dance?” He remarks, “No one to watch this time, sadly.” 

You smile in return. “Perfectly fine by me,” You answer, and he takes you into his arms again.

This time, the dance is different. There’s no dramatic sweeping, no clumsy movement of feet, no twirling or rigid posture. But Lucio’s arms are just as tight as he pulls you close, and god, he does smell good. Like a mulled spiced cider, warm and inviting. Though it’s cold outside, he keeps you close, and both his furs and body keeps you comfortable.

You feel your back hit the stone of a statue, and find yourself pressed between it and Lucio, who looks down at you, fondness evident on his face.

“Why, hello,” You murmur, reaching up your hand to thread your fingers lightly through his golden hair. He smirks, expression nearing sinful as his eyes dart across your face, and glance at your lips.

“How did we end up here?” He replies, voice equally low and quiet. Hearing the tone sends another pleasant shiver through you, and you can feel your cheeks heating again.

“I’m not sure. But I wouldn’t mind staying for a while.” Your own boldness is shocking you- _this is the Count of Vesuvia!-_ but if Lucio is put off by it, it doesn’t show. If anything, he seems pleased. He leans in ever closer, and chuckles.

“Good.  _Stay,_ ” He says insistently, before pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle, but pressing, and your eyes close as Lucio’s metal hand keeps you pinned to the statue, and his other hand cups your cheek. He kisses deeply,  _needily,_  almost, and you feel yourself sigh against his mouth. It’s been a long time since you kissed anyone, and he’s so soft, and so warm. Pressed between him and the statue, it’d be easy to kiss him forever, lost in the sensation and pleasure of it.

But he moves fast. Lucio’s tongue is in your mouth, and he’s groaning against your lips. You gasp as you feel him pull back to kiss you once, twice, three times quickly on your lips, before he buries his face into the crook of your neck and kisses you there, too.

“Lucio-” You whisper, and his eyes flick to you, grinning as he scrapes his teeth along the sensitive part of your neck. You whine, and cupping his face is both of your hands, hold his face in front of you, making sure he listens.

“Kiss me again.” You say, and he does.

He kisses you there for a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a fill for a prompt I received on my Tumblr! deputyrook.tumblr.com


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